Sparks
by Thistlefang
Summary: Every fire starts with a spark (unless it doesn't). A brief history of Pyro?


**Authors Note:** _Oneshot! Just an idea I had as to who Pyro is, or rather was. Reviews, as always, are much loved :)_

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"He was just a normal kid, I guess. To begin with, anyway..."

The elderly stranger who spoke stubbed out his cigarette in the chipped little ashtray sitting next to him, a small wisp of smoke dancing in the air briefly before fading away..

Spy could barely make out the other man's face in the dingy light of the run-down bar. He briefly wondered what he was doing there. He was supposed to be using his espionage skills against the BLUs, not on his own team-mates. Then again, his curiosity had a nasty habit of getting in the way of his work. It was better to settle it before it got him killed. He shoved all stray thoughts to the back of his mind and focused intently, once again, on what the stranger was saying.

"A bright kid, sure, but still relatively normal. Then there was the fire. It was stupid really, some idiot playin' with matches thought it would be funny to light up a dumpster. Kid lost both his parents an' half his face. All chances of a normal life disappeared for 'im then. He was barley eight years old. That's when the foster system stepped in."

The man lit up another cigarette, taking a long drag and letting out a hacking cough before continuing:

"They tried to get 'im settled with a family but no-one wanted 'im, didn't want an 'ugly' kid, or a traumatized one for that matter. So he ended up at Heartfield – a children's home that I was assigned to at the time. It was a dump, if you could give it that graceful a name. The other kids there had behavioral problems, were near-on out of control. Heartfield was where all the kids that the government would rather forget about went."

"When the kid was dumped there, they were relentless in their teasing. If I'm honest the staff, including myself, couldn't have cared less about the well-bein' of one kid. We focused on makin' sure the unit as a whole didn't collapse. In hindsight, we should've paid more attention. 'Bout four months after he showed up what was left of 'im snapped. Two of the kids, Jax an' Toby, who'd been the worst of the bunch that'd teased him were found burned to death behind the local school, the boy 'imself was missin'. Two days later they found 'im, in the burnin' rubbel of Heartfield, giggilin at the few of us who'd managed to escape. I'll remember the glee in his eyes as he lauged as long as I live. It wasn't manic laughter either. It was happy, as though he was havin' fun. As though it was all one big game. "

The stranger was silent for a long time, staring off absently to something only he could see. Just as Spy began to wonder if he should grab the other man's attention he spoke again.

"After that he was moved to an asylum of sorts. As far as I know he was there 'till some organization got 'im pulled out. 'Rehabilitated', they said. Well, ain't no way that monster's gonna be able to function in proper society. Don't know what they have 'im doin' now but I got a feelin' it ain't exactly legal, if you know what I mean, Detective."

"Yes," said the spy, "I think I know exactly what you mean." He stood up, dusting off his red-brown suit and pulling on his coat. "It has been very insightful talking to you sir, I'm sure you have helped my investigation significantly."

The man nodded. "Just so long as I stay anonymous, detective, I'm happy to have helped. Just remember, he was a normal kid once."

Spy nodded and abruptly left the dull little tavern. He was satisfied with the knowledge he'd gained as a 'detective'. It had taken him weeks to find the man he'd been talking to but he felt it was worth it to try and understand the 'thing' they called Pyro.

A little over a week later, as the REDs prepared for their next mission, Spy found himself glancing over to where Pyro sat, staring into the little blue flame at the end of his Backburner, gleefully humming a muffled tune which resembled "Do you believe in magic". Despite knowing a little bit about the pyromaniac's history, the spark that had set him on the path of destruction he now followed, Spy couldn't help but feel he was no closer to understanding him.

After all, who knew what inhumane thoughts lay behind that mask?


End file.
